The little girl came to my last writers workshop at school and said she probably wouldn’t return to school the next year. She would go back to homeschooling. This year had been an experiment.
“The best time to visit places is when no one is there,” she explained.

“Whatever decision I make, I know I won’t be happy,” she added.
Twelve years old. Too young to say life is disappointing. Too young to know that you can never win. Too young to see the glass as half-empty.
Over the past week, I’ve been searching for a unique and original venue for my daughter’s bat mitzvah this fall. Yep, five months away and I decided after my son’s incredible bar mitzvah two weeks ago that I wanted the same uniqueness for Eliana. And so I began my search.
I could adopt the perspective of I’ll never find anything, everything’s booked, we are doomed.
But I refuse.
For days, I called and emailed only to be told that places we really loved were already booked. Understandable. It’s only a few months away and October is still prime wedding season.
I’d end one day discouraged about having found the coolest venue ever, and despite the insane price tag keeping me up at night with worry, once I learned it was out of my reach, I was devastated.
But next day, I picked myself up and tried again. Different Google search terms, different cool friends to ask, different options appeared.

And then the clouds parted. The sky pink and full of promise. And a warm breeze wafted in the morning window.
Possibility. Cool places available. To us. And full of wonder.
There is always a possibility for something unique. No matter how challenging the dates and details. There is always something else.
Sometimes we have to step outside of our own heads in order to see the world of possibility. There is always so much around us, so much to consider.

When I leave my comfortable and familiar surroundings, that’s when I discover the art of time and the beauty in the whispers. I can’t wait for a month from now, to retreat to Mackinac Island with incredible people to write, do yoga, hike, bike, gather and ponder the possibilities.
The art of quiet. The gift of time.
(There’s room for you. Ask me about discounted tuitions and special deals!!)
We get stuck in our melee of conscience and concern, when we could soul-connect and drift deeper into a life of meaning. It’s the only answer, really.